


These Things I Have Done

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Maybe - Freeform, getting together temporarily, start of something - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:16:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7934284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Dean does things for no other reason than because he shouldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Things I Have Done

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a Christmas present for smokeandsong who gave the prompt “This Night” by Black Lab. Set vaguely in season 3.
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal in 2011.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Dean had never exactly been a beacon of virtue, but he knew the difference between right and incredibly fucked up. His Dad had instilled that in him when he was barely four years old. It was a lesson he'd taken to heart, perhaps above all the others he'd ever had drummed into him.

But Ruby was wearing a very attractive meat-suit. And Dean kept repeating that fact to himself, even while he watched her work the bar they were in. She was wearing some poor sucker and he really did not need a piece of that.

Except of course there was a thrumming in his blood that seemed to centre on Ruby, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

He took a sip of his beer, watching Ruby just like every other man in the bar was doing. He didn’t know what she was up to, just that it was bad. And _that's_ why he was watching her so intently, no other reason.

He hit his forehead against the table in front of him. Lying to himself wasn't nearly as much fun as lying to Sam.

And he got it, he did. Sam's need to believe that Ruby was a reformed character. But she was a demon. And nothing would ever convince him that demons, any demons, could be trusted.

“You look like you could do with another one,” Ruby said, appearing in front of him and putting a fresh beer down. “Or a good screw.”

Dean raised his head and then hit it down on to the table again. Ruby laughed.

“I could do that for you, if you like?” she suggested.

“Don't you have some poor schmuck to sacrifice or something?”

“Nah, not on a Wednesday. I save the sacrificing for Thursdays.” She sat down opposite Dean and took a swig from the beer she'd supposedly bought for him. Dean didn't have the energy to glare at her, but he obviously thought about it, which was seemingly enough for her. He was very glad telepathy wasn't in a demon's arsenal.

“Where's that delicious brother of yours?” Ruby asked, looking around the bar, as if she didn’t already perfectly know that Sam wasn't there. “You two are usually attached at the hip.”

Dean's mind flashed back to his and Sam's earlier argument, when Dean had said much the same thing. “We're on a break,” he said with a grin that fooled nobody. Ruby's usually hard eyes flittered with sympathy and Dean felt sick. Having a demon feel sorry for you was no kind of life.

“Well, his loss. I guess I get to have you all to myself, then,” she purred. Dean felt a little sicker.

“Just because I'm not going to ram a knife into your chest, doesn't mean I want to spend any time with you.”

Ruby pretended to look hurt, then shook it off. “You won't be doing anything to me, if you keep that up.”

Dean snagged the beer she was drinking from her hand and finished it off before slamming it down on to the table. “Why would I ever...?” he started to ask, but Ruby put her finger to his lips.

“You have an itch. I have an itch. What say you and I do a bit of mutual scratching?”

Dean moved his face away from Ruby's finger. “I'm not desperate. I could have anyone in this bar,” he said. “I don't need you.”

“But no one else in this bar understands you like I do. Understands the beast you carry inside that you're so afraid of letting out. Understands regret the way I do. Not just _saying_ bad things, but doing them too. We've blood on both our hands, you and I. It makes us just the same.”

Dean wanted to deny it. He couldn't stand the idea that he and Ruby were anything alike. But he didn’t deny it. Because it was so true that it burned a hole in his heart. The things he'd done, were they really any different from the things that Ruby had done? His reasons had been better, maybe, but were they any more right?

“Still not desperate,” Dean said, getting up on shaky legs; he'd maybe drunk more than he'd thought.

“No,” Ruby said, a strange, sad tilt to her head. “I suppose you’re not.”

She stood up in sync with Dean and started to help him outside. He attempted to push her away but his arms weren't quite working.

“I have a room,” she said, indicating the motel just across from the bar. Dean shook his head and succeeded in finally moving away from Ruby. Her flesh was a little too warm, a little too soft, for him to want to stay too close.

“The car's fine,” he said.

“Well,” Ruby said, moving over to her room, “unless you want to break your precious car's window to get inside...” She jingled some keys in her hand and laughed.

Dean swore and patted his back pocket. “Son of a bitch,” he growled, realising that she'd snatched his keys. So much for the good Samaritan act.

He stood staring at his car and then over at the room where Ruby had disappeared, leaving the door open for him. She'd turned the light on but left the blinds open, so he could see every contour of her body as she stripped and then moved over to the bed.

Of all the things he'd done, this was probably going to be the worst. But then, what was one more regret on top of all the others that he had?

The light in the room flickered off and that seemed to make Dean's mind up.

Slowly, as if each step were painful, he walked over to the motel and, without daring to look about him, stepped inside, the shadows wrapping themselves around him as he closed the door.


End file.
